


Bek Family Tradition

by orphan_account



Series: Darvo's Life Sucks [1]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Bad Parenting, M/M, reupload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Frohd Bek starts a new family tradition with his son.Darvo has many opinions on this, all of them negative.





	Bek Family Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reupload because I took the original down in a fit of bad mental health. There will be a sequel that no one asked for coming soon! 
> 
> Follow me at Mutalist.tumblr.com and talk about warframe, life, and degeneracy.

The worst thing about being kidnapped was the big deal everyone made about it. Like the whole being arrested and manhandled and put into a tiny room really sucked too, but the coming back and seeing the hassle all the Tenno and everyone else went through trying to save him was really the worst. Yeah, it was nice seeing everyone care, but Darvo always felt obligated to pay them afterwards. He might’ve technically been a fugitive in the eyes of the empire, but he was still a Corpus. All that money gone. Ugh, and it wasn’t even his fault. 

Then there was the second worst thing and while it didn’t happen  _ every  _ time, it happened  _ most  _ of the time. Judging by the fact that the cell he got shoved was a disgustingly accurate replication of one of the few rooms he spent a decade in as a child, the second worst thing was definitely going to happen. Which was why he was thinking about the worst thing. Because while the worst thing was, well, the worst thing, the second worst thing was actually honestly a lot  _ worster  _ than the worst thing. It was only second because after 105 years of dealing with it, it was easier to shove into a storage closet in his brain and ignore it. Just referring to it as the second worst helped a lot too. It made it sound somehow worse and better at the same time, so that was good. Okay, not good. But better. 

Look, he was more than aware it was a dumb way of dealing with it, but it was the only way of dealing with it that worked. 

The doors slid open and beeped as they locked. He didn’t bother standing from the bed.

Darvo sighed.

“Hi, Father.” 

“Don’t use that tone with me,” Frohd Bek said, clasping his hands together tightly, “You brought this upon yourself.” 

“You know, most families when they want to get together, they send out invitations. They ask. I mean, I’m just saying.”

“I  _ did  _ ask.” 

“Okay, yeah, you did, but,” Darvo shrugged, “the point of asking is that I can say no. So I did. And you’re supposed to respect that. Because that’s what people do. And because you’re my father. You know. Family. Family respects family.” 

“You don’t respect me.” 

“Yeah, that’s because I’m your son and I don’t have to respect you. It’s expected.” 

Frohd Bek sighed, “So you admit working with the Betrayers is just a rebellious phase?” 

“They’re not Betrayers! I told you to stop calling them that! Ugh,” Darvo pinched his brow, “This is why I don’t answer your calls! You’re so embarrassing!” 

“Oh, you’re embarrassed. What about me? Do you ever stop to think about what kind of light you paint me in? Me, Head of the Board, with a rebel son helping the Tenno with a test tube dog at his side. Do you know what that looks like? How am I supposed to oversee an Empire when I can’t even raise my own son right! I can see them thinking it.” 

“No, father, they’re thinking that they’re being run a fraud who takes the credit for everyone else’s work! Either that or they’re not thinking about you at all.” 

Frohd Bek pointed at Darvo in an aggressive way that was clearly supposed to be angry and threatening, but was mostly just kinda pathetic. “One day, you’re going to regret having said that. You’re going to regret those words one day.” 

“Yeah? Really, Father? What are you going to do to me?” 

Silence. 

Frohd Bek crossed his arms.

“I’m not going to do anything to you. I’m pointing out that you’re going to regret them one day. You’re going to grow up, be on the Board sitting right next to me, and you’re going to remember this little phase and you’re going to be begging for my forgiveness.” 

“Father, I’m not going on the Board. I’m done with the Empire, I told you. I’m happy where I am.” 

“Darvo,” Frohd Bek sighed as he sat next to his son. Darvo shifted over until his leg hung off the edge. “I’ve sacrificed so much for you, so much just so you could have a seat next to me. Do you know how much that chair cost? It was a nearly unquantifiable amount of credits. So many zeroes that it just went off the page.” 

“By the void, Father, you’re the Head of the Board and that Alad V guy is gone now, why did you waste your money on a new position? Just give me— Hypothetically and not actually— give me his!” 

“No, Darvo, I know that. I’m talking about the chair, Darvo.” 

“You—! Father, I am not joining the Board! That’s it! Stop wasting your money because you can’t accept that! And a chair? Really? Where are you going to put it? Are you going to have this chair moved around wherever you have a meeting!?” 

“It’s not a waste, Darvo, it is an investment. I’ve seen your business and while your clientele is disgusting and loathsome, it’s more than clear that you know what you’re doing. More so than the other members. The chair doesn’t matter. Well, it does. An authentic flawless Orokin throne. But that’s besides the point, Darvo. The point is that it’s a symbol. It shows the Bek family status. And how valuable you are. You’ll come around someday, Darvo,” his father moved next to him, wrapping his arm around Darvo’s shoulder, stopping him from bailing off the bed. “I know you will.” 

At that point, after a century of the second worst thing, Darvo wasn’t even surprised when his father’s hand settled on his thigh. But he still swiped it off. 

“No, Father.”

“Darvo, don’t be like this.”

“Because it’s disgusting! If my friends found out—” 

“They’re not your friends, they’re Betrayers.” 

“THEY’RE NOT— Ugh, Father! It doesn’t matter! Fine, they’re my customers at the very least and if they found out, then they’ll stop buying from me! I’ll be broke! Is that what you want for me?” 

“You won’t go broke, Darvo. You’ll come scurrying back to me before that happens.” 

“I will not! Listen, it’s disgusting. That’s what matters.” 

“What’s disgusting? It’s natural.” 

“No! Not when you’re my father and I’m your son. That’s gross.” 

“Darvo, look at what you are. We’re all products of incest. It’s who we are. It’s why we’re superior. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“What about—” Darvo bit his lips together. The second worst thing was bad enough without spending weeks in a real prisoner’s cell afterwards. 

Frohd Bek’s eyes narrowed. “What about what?” 

“Doing something that other fathers and sons do,” he lied, “Something that families do.”

His father relaxed, “Like what?” 

“We could go over the past year’s finances, see what cuts need to be made, or we can look at stocks, or we could invest in the Index, or…” he shrugged, hoping Frohd Beks’ arm would slip, but it stayed firm. “Those sorts of things.” 

“No.” 

“Father—” 

“No, because you didn’t respond to my invitations or answer my calls. If you didn’t make me waste my money on funding a crew to find and bring you here, if you came here or arranged for a meeting, I would be more than happy to purchase stocks for you in my name. But no, you made me waste my money and you made me wait. I’m not rewarding this behavior.” His hand returned to his son’s leg. 

Darvo looked away as the fingers started kneading. This was the worst part of the second worst thing. But then his father’s mouth would be all over his face and that’d be the worst part. Then his father would make him undress both of them and that'd be the worst part. And the part after that would be the worst part and the part after that would be the worst part too and so on a and so on. Everything would be the worst part until he got back to a relay and enough days past that it felt like the second worst thing didn’t just happen. 

“If you hate it so much,” Frohd Bek’s synthesized voice softened, well, at least as much as a mechanized voice could, “then we can make a deal. You give up your silly business with the Betrayers and join me on the Board and we won’t ever do this again.” 

“Father,” Darvo sighed, “Do you remember what you said last time?” 

“It’s not relevant to the negotiations at hand.” 

“Uh, yeah it is. You said that last time you, uh, just last time, you said this, this kind of thing wouldn’t happen again. You said that if I let you do it, you wouldn’t do it again. Now that I think about it, that’s what you said the time before that and before that. Oh and before then too.” 

“I wasn’t gaining anything before so why would I honor that deal? This time though, I’m gaining you, so I’ll stop. I’ll even give you insurance.” 

Darvo snorted and tried to ignore the fact that his father was clumsily pawing at his crotch through his suit and failing to actually stimulate anything. The failing was a good thing, by the way. 

“Father, it doesn’t matter what you do, I won’t believe you. It’s that simple.” 

Frohd Bek paused. From his tight expression, anyone else would’ve been worried that they’d frustrated the Head. Or delighted, depending on the Corpus at hand. But Darvo could tell that he was surprised, like the thought that his own son wouldn’t believe him was inconceivable. Which, like, after decades of Darvo not trusting in him, it should at the very least be expected. 

“Then I don’t have a reason to stop.” 

“Yeah,” Darvo looked aside at the sterile walls. At least they weren’t metal. He was half-sure that if he saw his and his father’s reflection, even if it was just blurry blobs of color, the first thing he’d do upon getting back to a relay was stealing one of Clem’s Grakatas and shooting himself. “Okay. Whatever.” 

“You hate this right now, but it’s just because you don’t understand. When you have an heir of your own, you’ll see my position.” 

Darvo barely held back the urge to point out that even in the unlikely chance he had a kid, he’d rather jump out of an airlock or make love to an Infested hive before touching them. 

“My father tossed me aside. I would’ve done anything for him to have valued me as I valued you. You’re lucky, Darvo. You just don’t see it because you’ve been lucky your whole life.” 

“Okay, Father.” 

“Darvo, look at me.” 

At this point, Darvo knew he didn’t actually have to look at his father’s face. He just looked ahead. When he was younger, maybe thirty years ago, he would’ve had to stifle his gags when he felt Frohd Bek’s mouth clumsily pressed against the corner of Darvo’s lips. Before then, he didn’t exactly understand what was going on. After that, he was just used to it. But he probably wasn’t ever going to get used to the way it made him feel. His stomach kept flipping, not in the going through a void gate way, but in the ate something that would kill a Grineer way. Well, no, it was both at once. Then there was the way his shoulders and back and organs were all on fire. Not literally. Literally would’ve probably been better. 

The touching and his father’s heavy mechanized breathing just made Darvo feel like a kid again. When everything first clicked, he’d felt disgusted and angry. But before that period, and, well, afterwards too, the disgust didn’t settle in until later. Sometimes when laying in bed while trying to pretend that it wasn’t his father’s flaccid dick pressed against him, he’d think that he was better off at least knowing why he felt so revolted. But that was stupid because better would be the second worst thing not happening at all. 

Frohd Bek pulled away. Instead of breathing out a sigh of relief, Darvo just looked to the ceiling. Gods weren’t exactly worshipped anymore, but maybe there was some mind reading Sentient out there who’d blow up the ship or a Tenno in the vents who saw that he was definitely not happy about this. 

His father shifted, turning his back on him. Darvo didn’t bother holding his frustrated sigh in. Back when Frohd Bek was just touching him and not actually full blown fucking his son, he’d still made Darvo undress them both. But he’d also had Darvo undress him even after just a long day or before a wash. Maybe that was just part of the process into getting into his son’s pants. But none of that really mattered. It was just one of many trivial little details that helped distract him from the fact that if there was a Tenno in the vents, all they’d see would be their friendly local arms dealer stripping his dad down  _ willingly  _ and getting under him  _ willingly  _ and letting him shove his dick in his ass  _ willingly.  _

Because that was the point. He was willing. If he wasn’t, Darvo would’ve fought back at least once or twice. It’d only cost a few hundred thousand credits to hire a Tenno for an assassination job. Even if it took all his money, if he wasn’t willing, he’d still do it. 

But no, he didn’t. 

So he was willing. 

And that was that. 

Really that wasn’t even the worst part of the undressing part. The worst part was after taking off his father’s voice synthesizer and having to hear his awful raspy whisper. Mostly because it was just a pain to listen to. 

Darvo didn’t care enough to not dump Frohd Bek’s helmet on the floor. He ignored his father’s disapproving croak that was probably meant to be a snarl and started undoing his own suit. Yeah, this part in particular would look really bad to anyone watching. At least to any non-Corpus. Maybe the crew knew. Maybe they didn’t. Either way, there was no way they cared. It’d be nice if he could be like the others and just accept that the second worst thing wasn’t a worst thing at all. Maybe if Frohd Bek had actually waited until he was older to start jerking his kid off, Darvo would be fine about it. But maybe starting when Darvo was too young to even make any memories was a smart move. After all, Darvo was still letting him do it. That was the willing thing again. 

Frohd Bek went through the effort of getting up to lay his suit out on the nearest flat surface. This time, a desk against the wall. It was pointless considering how wrinkles weren’t exactly a problem in the standard issue crewman suit, but Darvo got three days in a cell when he pointed that out. Again, not something he wanted to repeat. He didn’t bother treating his own suit with any respect. If Frohd Bek had an issue with it, well, he could just deal with it. 

“You shouldn’t cover yourself up so much,” Frohd Bek said, taking his old position back. It was a short sentence, but it felt like it took nearly a full minute for him to say it. Darvo looked to the ceiling again. He started to glance back down, but his gaze flicked back up and stayed there the moment he felt his father’s hand running along his spine. “You have good genes. All natural too. You should use it to your advantage, get more business, get away with higher prices, get more profit.” 

“Ugh! Father, I am not going to try to seduce my friends! And don’t you dare say it!” 

Frohd Bek still muttered “Betrayers,” under his breath, but at least it was raspy enough to ignore. 

“Stop trying to tell me how to run my business. It’s embarrassing. It’s obvious you don’t know my target demographic.” 

“There are universal strategies, Darvo.” 

“Father, just stop. Just get this over with, okay? I want to get back as soon as possible.” 

Frohd Bek sighed. Darvo nearly sighed too. At least his father was in an agreeable mood this time. It wasn’t like he got hit when Frohd Bek was in a bad mood— Okay, well,  _ yeah,  _ he did, but at least never when they were both naked and on a bed. It was just the usual punishment of solitary confinement until he gave up. It was more pathetic than actually getting beaten into submission. 

“You said you wanted to do more with me. Spend time together.” 

“Yeah, I did, but not anymore. That line is like, way back over there. Right now, the moment we’re done here, I’m going home.” 

“This is your—”

“You know what I mean!” 

His father’s frown deepened. He was getting close to angry. Well, so be it, Darvo decided. After a century of dealing with this nonsense, he deserved to take a stand for himself. Not that he hadn’t tried before. 

“Darvo, you know that’s not up to you. I decide when you leave, if you leave.” 

“Father.”

“Fine, we can negotiate later.” 

“Ugh,” Darvo tried shrugging his father’s hand off his back, “No, Father, you always say that and then we end up not discussing anything at all. You keep saying you want us to be partners, but—” 

“Darvo, be quiet.” 

“No, Father, I—” 

“Darvo, shut up.” 

He clenched his teeth together. It was like he was just a well-programmed MOA. Absolutely embarrassing. The fact that he felt guilty for being called out like a child only added shame to the fire. He knew he wasn’t in the wrong here. Even if he was just being sensitive or spoiled for not wanting to sleep with his father, that didn’t change the fact that he’d said no. Even Corpus acknowledged it was rude at the very least to pressure someone into sex, though it wasn’t exactly uncommon. But no one would call it, well, the R-thing because it wasn’t. His father was right, the worst anyone would think was that Frohd Bek had an undisciplined son. 

Darvo still didn’t say anything even when he felt Frohd Bek mouthing at his cheek. After so long, he’d expect that his father would’ve figured out some technique besides clumsily smearing his lips and tongue everywhere, but apparently that was asking too much. Darvo didn’t really know any better either though. In his defense, it felt wrong to fool around with anyone when there was a high chance that the very next day, he’d be back in some warship’s quarters with his father. He made the mistake of glancing down. At this point, he was near certain he’d never get used to the sight of Frohd Bek’s dick standing at attention. If Darvo was a little more shameless, he’d organize a club for other guys who banged their dads and ask if they ever got used to it. Was getting used to it really a good thing though? 

“You always freeze under pressure,” Frohd Bek rasped into his neck. Darvo didn’t bother hiding his frustration. 

“No, I don’t. I work just fine under pressure. Do I really need to say that I just don’t want to be here? Isn’t that clear enough?” 

“Darvo,” Frohd Bek’s clammy hand forced his son’s head towards him. Darvo looked into his eyes out of habit. “Don’t be difficult.” 

There really was no way around it. Times like this, he wished that he’d at least messed around once with a pretty anything. Just something to picture as he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned in until his mouth was against his father’s. He didn’t try to keep the tongue that wormed its way between his lips out. It was dry, just like the rest of Frohd Bek’s mouth. Side effect of the implant for the voice synthesizer in his helmet. The dryness made an already unpleasant experience even worse. When his father’s hands slid to his shoulders and pressed down, Darvo didn’t struggle then either. Once the second worst thing reached this point, it was just easier to go along with everything. Even the weight when his father climbed on top of him, or when his father gently pet his dick— which was still soft by the way, at least he wasn’t that far gone yet— and even the obnoxious grating gasps coming from his father, each breath like serrated metal against Darvo’s skull. It’d all be a foggy memory in a few days anyways. 

“Darvo.” 

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Darvo.” 

“I know, I know, just leave it alone, jeesh.” 

“You’re not listening to me.” 

“By the— Father! What do you mean I’m not listening to you!? All you keep doing is repeating my name!” 

“Because you’re not listening.” 

Darvo took a deep breath. Yelling would’ve just made it worse. “Fine, I’m listening.” 

Frohd Bek’s hand dragged up from Darvo’s dick to his protruding ribs, fingers digging into the grooves. “You have good genes.”

“You already said that.”

“You don’t understand. Even if you weren’t such a talented profiteer, you’d still be valuable for your body alone.” 

“Ugh,” Darvo looked past his father’s head to the ceiling, “Thanks, Father. It’s a relief to know that you think that I’ll always have a career as a prostitute if this business thing doesn’t work out.” 

The hoarse rasp that Frohd Bek made was another intended snarl. “You think this is a joke? We’re better than that. You and me, we both are.” 

“You know, hearing that just makes me want to give it a try.” 

“ _ Darvo.”  _

The low grinding growl made his son tense. If he were any younger, he would’ve froze. That was the tone before a punishment. Usually painful or elongated or cruel and unusual. 

After a moment of thick silence, Frohd Bek continued. The warning edge was gone, his tone softening into something kinder. Well, his idea of kinder. Which just meant so soft that anyone besides Darvo wouldn’t have been able to understand. 

“You go and do that, Darvo. It’ll be better than working with the Betrayers.” 

“Fath—!” 

“In the eyes of the common consumer, your value has been depreciated so thoroughly by your actions that you’d be less than worthless. Most would spend the money just so they could finally put you down. That’s good. That’s desirable for me. No competition. No one to out bid me.” 

“Uh,” Darvo turned his head to side-eye his father, “I said prostitute, not slave.” 

“There’s not much of a difference.” 

“No, there is. There’s actually a pretty big difference.” 

“Darvo, you’re still not understanding. If you stop trading with the Tenno, then they won’t care about you anymore. They won’t intervene.” 

“I thought you were trying to convince me to stop working with them, but you’re making a damn good argument for why I should give them better deals.” 

Frohd Bek’s nose curled up in disgust, “No, I’m saying that they’re not your friends. Friends don’t exist, Darvo. Everyone has a price. The only thing we have is family.” 

“Yeah,” Darvo scoffed, “the same family that threatened to enslave me like a minute ago. That’s good, Father. That’s real good.” 

“I just want what’s best for you. For our family. You have good genes, Darvo.” 

“Ugh, stop saying that!” 

“You’re valuable, Darvo. I don’t want that to be wasted. If you stay on this path, our bloodline ends. It’s up to you , Darvo,” his father’s hand slid to his stomach, “It’s up to us.” 

“Ugh, Father!” Darvo swiped at Frohd Bek’s arm, “I’m not reproducing with you! I’m not gonna, gonna jerk off into a phial so you can make a test-tube baby! That’s just  _ wrong  _ on so many levels in so many ways that I don’t even know where to start!” 

Frohd Bek’s expression curled into a deeply carved snarl, “Our child would be brilliant.” 

“You don’t believe that, do you? There’s no way you actually believe that. It’d be so deformed you wouldn’t even be able to recognize it as your kid— grandkid— I don’t even know. Would it even have limbs? I think it’d just be a fleshy nugget—” 

Darvo still yelped when his father’s clumsy almost-fist landed in his face even though it really didn’t hurt at all. Part of living in space was dealing with atrophied muscles, something that he was mildly grateful for, just for that moment. It hurt a lot as a kid though. Maybe just because it was his father doing it. It didn’t matter anymore though. 

“You made me do that,” Frohd Bek said. 

“Yeah,” Darvo nodded, “Okay.” 

“You’re ungrateful.” 

“Sure.” 

“You’d be nothing without me.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

His father leaned off him. Darvo didn’t have to look, he just held his hand out and tried not to think about the gel stuff being poured into his palm. Thinking about it and naming it would be part of admitting what the second worst thing was. There were only so many uses you could get out of something like that, after all. 

Frohd Bek always made weird noises at this part. It was like the embodiment of heavy almost-dying breathing and a happy kubrow had an inbred baby with the vocal cords of the more exceptional Corpus Board members. The noises were the worst part of this worst part of the second worst thing. Darvo used to get angriest at this part. What kind of father got excited at the sight of his son sloppily smacking his fingers in and around his ass. Like seriously. After that time period, Darvo would get angriest at himself because what kind of son put on a show like that for his dad. But, by now, like everything else, he just went with it. At least it was better than when he was a kid. Who knew that a grown man shoving his fingers up a prepubescent child’s ass was horribly traumatizing, especially when the kid’s ass ripped and bled and the person that they were supposed to trust and rely on above all else just kept going? Probably everyone. Apparently, not his father. So yeah. Darvo would take doing it himself over that. 

“That’s good enough,” Frohd Bek said, rasp as high and whiny as it could get. Darvo sighed and reached his hands out, just the way his father liked it. He’d say his father preferred it because it was easier to pretend that his son was inviting him, but Darvo knew that wasn’t the case. After a century of dealing with his father and this, he knew Frohd Bek genuinely thought that on some level, Darvo wanted to get dicked by his dad. Was that better or worse, Darvo wasn’t sure. 

Frohd Bek came close, emaciated chest nearly touching his son’s and Darvo forced himself to wrap his arms around Frohd Bek’s neck and shoulders. That earned him a weird approving hum. He thought about gagging, but didn’t really need to. His strategy of staring at the ceiling didn’t work when his father’s head filled his view, but Frohd Bek’s bald featureless scalp was bland enough to serve the same purpose. Darvo had this down to a science. Definitely not something to be proud of.

“You’re valuable,” Frohd Bek said.

“Okay.”

“Especially to me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you ready?”

Darvo sighed. 

“Yes.”

His father’s clammy fingers pinched his still-soft dick.

“You’re not aroused.”

“I guess so.”

“That means you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“Does it?”

At the bottom edge of his vision, Frohd Bek’s eyes narrowed to a glare.

“Aren’t I good enough for you?”

Another sigh, “You are.”

“Don’t you want me?”

“What do you expect from me? What kind of answer do you really think you’re going to get?” 

Silence. Well, not really because Frohd Bek was still breathing louder than a Grineer. No offense, Clem. 

“Darvo.”

“What, Father.”

“Do you want this?”

There wasn’t any change in the tone or what little Darvo took in of Frohd Bek’s expression. 

“Yeah. Okay. I do. I guess.” 

This next worst part was only the worst because of how boring it was. Once upon a time, it was the worst because, well, it was the  _ worst.  _ Darvo couldn’t remember how he felt the first time his father went further than just humping his son. It couldn’t have been good though. Probably why he couldn’t remember. More stuff that didn’t matter. What did matter was that years of getting a dick in him meant that his asshole was looser than a… well, than a very loose something and that only helped the whole dick-going-in process. The other thing that mattered was that Frohd Bek didn’t really understand the whole point of endurance and stamina. In his head, that just translated to “last a really long time.” So a single in and out rotation took what felt like a minute and might honestly take up to five. It wasn’t like Darvo felt much either. The decades of training and grooming had failed in making him actually enjoy it. All the programming could muster was a half-chub. That meant just laying there, trying to think of anything else, with the only break in repetition being his father randomly smearing his leathery tongue along his skin in some really poor imitation of kisses. 

The sounds Frohd Bek were making would honestly be really concerning out of context. The chokes, grunts, and honks would make any crewman run for a medic. It only got worse when he opened his mouth and tried talking a string of looped “Darvo”s and “You’re valuable”s. Daro had his own string of replies which was mostly just nodding along mumbling “Okay.” 

Hopefully it’d never get recorded, at least for any listener’s sake. It’d deafen even the most hardened soldier. 

But really, Darvo was pretty sure that this wasn’t how se— Er, the second worst thing was supposed to go. Okay, well, he knew that the whole coercion thing was definitely not. The physical aspect though, hearing others talk and joke about it, it seemed like the second worst thing was honestly one of their best things. They’d talk about details like going quick and hard and rough or slow and careful and passionate or any mix of anything like it was something universally understood. Darvo never asked if their parents taught them that. The answer was probably no, anyways. Hopefully. 

Maybe he could ask someone to show him. Ha. What a joke. That’d never happen. Even if he didn’t admit the truth, it wasn’t like he really wanted to. Was the lack of interest something he was born with or was it from what happened? Who knows. Yet another thing that didn’t matter. Nothing really did matter. In a few minutes, his father would finish. In a few minutes after that, his father would fall asleep. In a few hours, he’d either do this again or go home. In a few days, this would have never happened until it happened again. 

Just the standard flow.

The only real coping technique he had. Coping technique sounded so bad though. Maybe just a way of dealing. That was better. One implied that there was something wrong and broken. The other was just a fact of life. That was easier. That was better. 

Frohd Bek dunked his head down and mashed their lips together. Darvo was surprised. That was faster than usual. It still lasted at least fifteen minutes, but that was pretty quick with his dad’s strategy. Seriously, how did he get anything out of it? Was it just the thought of fucking his son? Wait, yeah, that was probably it. Maybe it was how long it’d been and how obedient Darvo was being that quickened the process. Maybe it was hitting his son beforehand. Maybe he was just excited by their hypothetical child and all the things he’d do to it too. Maybe with the kid, with a second chance at grooming, Frohd Bek would have an offspring that was loyal, happy to throw everything away for the pursuit of power and profit, and one that actually willingly and happily got under its father and actually  _ enjoyed  _ it. Darvo would probably, no, definitely shoot himself if that ever happened. Just himself though. He wouldn’t hurt his dad and he’d never hurt his kid. Just himself. 

Darvo barely registered the hot stuff that he would never ever name that was now in him. He did register his father dropping onto his chest, knocking the air out of him. That was hard to miss. Frohd Bek clumsily rolled off his son. At least Darvo could breathe now. That was the first step in forgetting. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t muster the will to move when Frohd Bek slowly wormed his arm under him. And it was slow. Seriously, everything about the last few stages of the second worst thing was slow. Frohd Bek slid his other hand over Darvo, dragging him into a hug that was at least more competent than anything else he’d done tonight. But now his mouth was by Darvo’s ear and all Darvo could hear was his dry obnoxious wheezing. 

“I’m proud of you,” Frohd Bek gasped out gradually. Very gradually. 

“Okay.” 

“You did enjoy it.” 

Darvo glanced down. Apparently the half-chub went to a full during the process. And during the process, it went from a full to an empty. That was good. No it wasn’t. It was a something. He wasn’t even sure what the worst part was. The whole not noticing it happening couldn’t be healthy. 

“Huh.” 

“You’re coming around.” 

“Whatever.” 

Frohd Bek pressed another lame kiss to Darvo’s cheek. 

“You’re valuable, Darvo.” 

“Okay.” 

“I really do. I mean it. You’re so precious to me. That’s why I’ll always give you another chance.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I love you, Darvo.”

“Okay,” Darvo turned his back to his father. Frohd Bek followed the movement, pressing his chest to Darvo’s spine. This was how it always went. “Go to sleep, Father.” 

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i don't even like Darvo that much as a character but the line about Frohd Bek grooming him was too much for my degenerate mind to take even though i know that is 100000% not what they meant by grooming 
> 
> Uncle Alad to the Rescue in the sequel


End file.
